


i don’t know how to turn that into poetry

by prydon



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But they're mostly minor/speculative, Hurt/Comfort, In which Juno learns about Nureyev's 'first love' a different way, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Other, Spoilers for What Lies Beyond, Touch of sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27865417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prydon/pseuds/prydon
Summary: Even if Peter Nureyev can never love him back again, maybe it’s enough just to live in a world where he exists. To be allowed into his orbit, and be a satellite around him, even if only as a friend. He knows it’s still going to hurt some days, but that’s okay. Nureyev is here, and alive, and he found someone who makes him happy. Someone he’s probably going to marry.That’s okay. That’s good. Juno’s going to support him, no matter what. It’s the least he can do, really, after walking out on him. It’s the least he can do to just be the best friend possible to Peter Nureyev.--Or: Juno is under the impression that Nureyev has fallen in love with someone else since they last parted. The reality is more complicated.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 91
Kudos: 226





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly intended to finish and post this all at once, buuuut then I ended up having to go to the hospital for tendonitis and I can now barely use my dominant arm and it's a Whole Thing. So it might be a moment before I finish this, but I still wanted to start posting it because idk. I just did. And it's definitely long enough to be a multi chapter!! So why not.
> 
> This is basically my take on what the line about Nureyev's first love in What Lies Beyond could mean/imply, with a big old dash of misunderstandings for dramaaaa. "Kay" is inspired by the character of the same name who exists in the first drafts of Angel of Brahma that you can read if you're a TPP patron, but ofc you don't need to read those to understand this fic.
> 
> Don't have an exact posting schedule, but I only have to write a few more pages to finish this story so depending on how things go with my arm, it should all be up within the next week or so!
> 
> Title is from a poem by Clementine Von Radics:  
> "Here is the truth: It is hard to be in love  
> with someone who is in love someone else.  
> I don’t know how to turn that into poetry."
> 
> CWs for this chapter are depiction of illness and (brief) vomiting.

They agreed to take it slowly, after that night. It was the right decision. Juno knows that.

It doesn’t change the fact that there are some days that the distance between him and Nureyev feels so immeasurably vast that he wants to do nothing but cross it, grab the man by the lapels, and pull him into a kiss that lasts at _least_ ten minutes.

He manages to resist, of course. He already screwed things up once. He isn’t about to ruin them again by going too quickly. Instead, he forces himself to relish in the small moments of intimacy that they allow themselves- the times when their eyes meet across the room and they smile at each other, when he feels Nureyev’s hand on his knee under the table, when Juno falls asleep in the backseat of the Ruby with his head leaning on Nureyev’s shoulder and Nureyev doesn’t shift him.

It’s not much compared to the frantic closeness they’d experienced at the beginning of their relationship, but it still feels good, like the start of something that’s going to last a long time. Maybe for the rest of their lives.

Then Nureyev falls ill, and the path to intimacy is suddenly much, much shorter.

He looked woozy one day after a heist and Vespa insisted on taking his temperature. When she saw how high it was, she suggested he stay in the infirmary, and he promptly refused and vanished to him room. He then proceeded to not open the door for anyone and only occasionally respond to inquiries about whether or not he was alive.

Nureyev’s been hiding for at least 24 hours by the time a very exasperated Vespa comes to find Juno.

“Steel, I need your help,” she growls.

“…Really? With what?” It’s the first time she’s ever asked him for help with anything, as far as he can recall. She usually doesn't bother.

“Your annoying boyfriend.”

“I…He…He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever. _Ransom._ He’s obviously sick, but he won’t even unlock the door so I can give him food or medicine. I need you to go in there and give him this.” She picks up a tray off the counter and shoves it at him. It’s laden with a water bottle, several pills, and a bowl of soup. “As irritating as it is, he’s still a member of his crew, and I’d rather he not die of something perfectly preventable and stink up the Carte Blanche with his corpse.”

Juno accepts the tray, taken back. “What makes you think he’ll let _me_ in?”

She scoffs. “He may not be your boyfriend, but you obviously have history, Steel. I see the way you two look at each other. Believe me, I wish I didn’t. If he’s gonna let anyone in, it’s gonna be you.”

“…Right. Right, okay. I’ll…try.”

His first knock on the door gets no response.

His second doesn’t get anything either, so he tentatively says, “…Ransom? It’s Juno. I have some stuff that’ll make you feel better. Can I come in?”

No reply.

“Ransom?”

Still nothing. He’s probably asleep, Juno figures. That, or he just doesn’t want to talk right now, or doesn’t want to see anyone. There are a million reasons he could have for not replying, none of which involve him having died in his sleep of fever.

But…

“Ransom, please,” Juno says, fear creeping into his voice. “Could you at least…make a noise, or something. Let me know if you’re alive in there. If you don’t, I’m gonna get Rita to hack the lock and let me in, so-”

“The code is 3679.”

His voice is tired and quiet, rough from all the coughing that Juno heard when he passed the room earlier. It makes Juno’s heart ache.

The ache increases to full-fledged pain when he enters the code, walks inside, and sees Nureyev sprawled on top of his blankets and looking like death.

He’s flushed but also shivering, as though his body can’t decide whether it’s hot or cold, and his hair is plastered to his forehead by sweat. He’s dressed in only a slip, the rest of his clothing apparently discarded somewhere in his swamp of a room. It’s the least amount of clothing Juno has seen him in since that night in the hotel a year ago, but he can’t bring himself to feel anything but worry as he looks at him, all arousal overridden by sympathy and concern.

Nureyev groans when their eyes meet. “Sorry…you have to see me in such a state. I didn’t want anyone to, but…”

“Don’t apologize,” Juno says quickly. “You’re sick. No one’s judging you; we just want to make sure you’re okay.” He sits on the bed and sets down the tray beside him. “I brought you some meds from Vespa. She said you should take them as soon as possible.”

Nureyev struggles to sit up, and without thinking, Juno presses a hand to his back to help him. To his relief, Nureyev doesn’t look bothered or pull away. The skin of his back is clammy, drawn taught over his too-prominent shoulder blades, and Juno wants nothing more than to pull him into his arms and never let him go.

Instead, he tips the pills into his mouth, then helps him gulp them down with the glass of water.

“Do you think you can eat?” he asks gently.

Nureyev eyes the soup, then shakes his head. “Not…not right now. I believe it would simply come back up.”

“All right. I’ll leave the soup on the bedside table then, all right?”

“Mm.”

Juno moves to get up, but suddenly a long-fingered hand is wrapped around his wrist, holding it as tightly as its owner can manage.

“…Nureyev?”

Nureyev’s eyes are locked on his, pleading and bright with fever. “Stay?”

His voice is impossibly small, and Juno knows he could never say no, even if he’d wanted to. He immediately sits back down. “Yeah, okay. As long as you want.”

Nureyev’s state only worsens as the day goes on. He’s asleep for most of it, and when he’s awake he’s incoherent, mumbling in different accents about things that Juno has never heard of. At one point he even speaks in a different language entirely, one Juno doesn’t know but can surmise to be Brahman by its melodic tone. He’d think it was beautiful, if he wasn’t terrified that it means Nureyev is going to die. After all, he knows that Nureyev would never speak Brahman in front of anyone by choice, and the fact that he’s doing so now means he’s completely lost control of his faculties.

Juno follows the instructions that Vespa sends him over comms, continually giving Nureyev water and changing out the cool washcloth on his head. At one point in the evening he finally becomes lucid enough to let Juno feed him the soup, only to immediately call for the trashcan so that he can throw it back up. Juno rubs his back and whispers soft reassurances as he wretches.

“You’re okay,” he says. “You’re all right, baby- Nureyev. You’re all right.”

Part of him is relieved that Nureyev is definitely too out of it to have heard his slip up. Another part of him hopes he will remember it, and wishes they could be this close when Nureyev isn’t delirious.

Thankfully, by the time night has fallen and everyone else has gone to bed, the thief seems to be improving. Buddy leaves dinner for both of them outside the door- pasta for Juno and another bowl of soup for Nureyev, this one even lighter and easier on the stomach than the last. Juno feeds it to him, then waits with his breath baited and a hand hovering over the trashcan until enough time has passed that it feels safe to conclude the broth will actually stay down this time.

He breathes a sigh of relief and allows himself to relax a little for the first time since he entered the room, and the next thing he knows, he’s being ingulfed by gangly arms.

“N-Nureyev?!”

The man’s face is pressed into the crook of his neck as he pulls Juno into a tight hug. “Thank you,” he mumbles into his skin.

“N-no problem,” Juno stammers.

Nureyev pulls back, eyes bright and a smile playing across his face. Then he leans forward again, and-

God, Juno had missed the way those lips feel against his. They’re different right now, of course, chapped and too-hot from sickness, and he thanks his lucky stars that he made Nureyev wash out his mouth after the last time he threw up- but they’re still Peter Nureyev’s lips, and they still fit with Juno’s like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

“Thank you,” Nureyev says again, smiling against his mouth. “You stayed.”

“Of course I did.”

“I love you.”

Juno’s heart jolts in his chest. He knows he shouldn’t feel as happy as he does to hear it, knows Nureyev probably wouldn’t have said it at all if he was in his right mind, but…it feels good. Fuck, it feels amazing, to know for sure that Nureyev still feels that way about him.

“I love you so much.” Nureyev kisses him again, even harder. “I love you, Kay. I love you.”

Juno opens his mouth to say it back, but then his brain catches up with his ears, and-

“…Kay?” he says.

Nureyev just grins at him, swaying slightly. He looks young, somehow, younger than Juno has ever seen him, and his eyes are glazed over like he’s somewhere else entirely.

Like Juno is someone else entirely.

Nureyev leans forward to kiss him again, but Juno finds himself pulling away. He doesn’t want this. Not if Nureyev isn’t thinking straight, and especially not if…Nureyev is only doing it because he thinks Juno is someone else.

A flicker of hurt crosses Nureyev’s face. “Kay? What’s wrong?”

Juno turns away from him, not knowing how to respond. It’s ridiculous to feel jealous, he knows. Of course Nureyev has cared about people who aren’t him, loved people who aren’t him. This Kay person could be a fling from decades ago, and…even if they aren’t…

It’s not as though Juno ever asked. He’d just assumed that Nureyev, like him, hadn’t found anyone else while they were apart. He’d assumed that when they’d agreed to take it slow, that meant they were eventually going to end up in a relationship again.

Had he been wrong?

“Go to sleep,” he says roughly. “You…you should rest, Nureyev.”

Nureyev stares at him for a moment longer, then nods and falls back into his pillows. He’s asleep almost immediately, the meds and food and exhaustion of a day spent struggling to fight his fever apparently having finally caught up with him.

Juno raises a finger to his own lips, running it across them. He tries not to feel disappointed by the knowledge that he is not the person Nureyev kissed. He is not the person who Nureyev said he loved.

He fails.

When he returns to Nureyev’s room the next morning to check on him, the man is just emerging from the bathroom, his hair wet from the shower and a towel around his waist.

He flashes a sharpened grin at Juno when he sees. “Why, good morning, Detective.”

“Uh, sorry, I can come back later-” Juno says quickly, face growing hot.

“I see no reason why you can’t stay,” Nureyev responds, as though he’s not currently entirely naked except for the towel.

Juno swallows. “I just…wanted to know how you’re doing. You seem like you’re feeling better?”

“Very much so,” Nureyev says. “Apologies, Juno. I don’t remember much of what happened yesterday, but I remember you were there, and I can only imagine what a mess I must have been. You have my eternal gratitude for looking after me.”

Juno can’t resist the question. “So you…don’t remember anything you said? When you were sick?”

Nureyev immediately looks worried. “Oh, dear. I didn’t say anything embarrassing, did I? Please disregard any of my words, I was certainly not in my right mind-”

“No, no,” Juno says quickly. “You were…fine.”

He should tell him. He knows he should. He doesn’t, though, and he isn’t entirely sure why.

No, he knows why. It’s because he’s scared that if he asks _‘Who’s Kay?’,_ he’ll get the answer he doesn’t want. He’s terrified that the person who Nureyev kissed, said he loved, and looked at with those wide, glittering eyes is someone who is still in Nureyev’s life. Someone he’s currently with.

It’s selfish, of course, and ridiculous. If Nureyev is with somebody else who makes him happy…it’s only what he deserves.

He still can’t bring himself to ask, though. Instead, he says, “…You spoke Brahman. Just for a little while.”

Nureyev blanches. “Good lord. It’s a good thing only you were around to hear it, then.”

“It…was nice. Whatever you were saying, it sounded pretty. Brahman’s a beautiful language.”

Nureyev looks amused by this assertion. “The dialect where I grew up was considered one of the ugliest on the planet, you know.”

“I mean it. I loved hearing you,” Juno says.

Nureyev gives him a smile so soft, then, that Juno almost completely forgets about the possibility that he has someone else. “Well, in that case, perhaps I’ll speak it again sometimes. Just for you and I, dear detective.”

“I…I would like that, yeah.”

As time passes, the memory of Nureyev’s sickness and the things he said in the throes of it begin to slip from Juno’s mind. The two of them grow closer day by day, and Nureyev doesn’t mention the existence of a partner even once. He might have misheard, even, Juno realizes. Maybe Nureyev had intended those words and kisses to be for Juno, after all. What kind of name is ‘Kay’, anyway? It’s just _a letter._

Then one day the crew is out in a town on Pluto picking up groceries, and he notices Nureyev get a call and slip away. He’s so quick, so silent, that Juno is certain none of the others even saw him go- but Juno has gotten more and more used to picking up on the thief’s presence or lack thereof as the weeks go by.

He tries to let it go. Nureyev has a right to privacy, and a right to go off alone whenever he pleases. It’s not as though Juno is his carer.

Still…

He looked so nervous when he left, that Juno can’t help but feel a little worried. What if something’s wrong?

In the end, he bites the bullet, mumbles something about finding a bathroom and follows after Nureyev. He finds him walking around a nearby park, talking on his comms. His gait is relaxed, but Juno can tell at a glance that the path he’s following is one that strategically avoids the security cameras littering the area. His face is blank as he talks, betraying no emotion.

Juno doesn’t listen to what he’s saying. He’s not here for that; he just wanted to make sure Nureyev was okay. Now that he knows he’s not in any immediate danger, he can return to the others, and-

“Nureyev out.”

Juno stops dead in his tracks.

He didn’t just hear what he thought he did, didn’t he?

It can’t be. As far as he knew, he’s the only person in the galaxy who Nureyev has told his name to. Nureyev said as much to him. If he really just said it now…what does that mean? Who could possibly be on the other end of that line? A million possibilities run through his mind. Someone from Brahma, who’s found him out and is threatening him? He wouldn’t have looked so passive if that was the case, right? Then who?

He gets his answer when he turns back for a moment and sees Nureyev clutch his comms to his chest, close his eyes, and speak a name like he’s whispering a prayer.

_“Kay.”_

Juno can’t even hear the word from this distance, but years of honing his lipreading skills to make it easy to recognize.

 _“I’m afraid I don’t tell anyone my name,”_ Nureyev had said when they first met. “ _It would take someone very special for me to tell it now.”_

Someone special enough that Nureyev would kiss them like he’d kissed Juno when he was delirious from fever. Someone special enough that he’d tell them he loves them, over and over again.

Juno’s heart plunges.

_What did you expect, Steel?_

_Did you really want him to sit around and not fall in love with anyone else? Did you really expect him to wait for the lady who walked out on him in the dead of night to come back?_

_Did you really think you were the only one capable of being special to Peter Nureyev?_

_How egotistical._

He hesitates for a moment, between going back to the crew and walking up to Nureyev. In the end he doesn’t have a choice, because as soon as he takes a step a branch snaps under his boot. Suddenly Nureyev is staring at him like he’s been caught in the act, as if Juno’s gaze is the headlights of a hovercar that’s coming straight towards him.

Juno hates that expression. He hates that Nureyev looks afraid, as though Juno could possibly be angry at him for loving someone else. 

“Juno,” Nureyev says. “You…”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Juno says quickly. “I just…wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Nureyev stays frozen for a moment, but then nods slowly. “Yes. Yes, apologies, I just…had to take a call.”

"Right. Uh, the others are waiting. We should probably get going. "

"Of course."

It isn't the last time that it happens. Juno never hears a call again, but he knows Nureyev is making them. He sees him slip away sometimes, or catches him just as he’s putting away his comms. 

It hurts a little, to know that Nureyev feels like his love is something he has to hide. At the same time, Juno is grateful for it. If Nureyev did talk about it, he's not sure how well he could hide his...jealousy, or whatever pathetic thing he’s feeling right now but doesn't deserve to.

They can be friends, he tells himself. Really, it’s more than Juno imagined would ever be possible, back on Mars. He’d assumed he’d never see Peter Nureyev again, let alone have the opportunity to be friends with him.

Maybe he’ll never be able to rid himself of the desire to kiss those lips. Maybe he’ll never stop waking up from dreams of touching his skin and pulling him near.

He can deal with that, though. He’s certain he can, so long as he’s careful. He just has to…avoid being alone with him, or getting too close. He knows if he does, his feelings with be too evident for Nureyev not to notice them, and he doesn’t want to put him in that position. He doesn’t want Nureyev to ever have to worry that Juno’s going to try anything or that he doesn’t respect the fact that Nureyev’s moved on.

He has no right to be jealous, after all. It isn’t as though Nureyev was ever his to lose.

So he chokes his feelings down, steadies himself, and decides that he can handle this. He is _going_ to handle this, for both their sakes.

He has to.


	2. Chapter 2

Some days, Juno wonders if Nureyev is intentionally torturing him.

He still shoots him sharp smiles sometimes, and still touches his knee under the table, but Juno refuses to let himself believe it could possibly mean anything more than that- more than just a smile or a touch.

He remembers how often Nureyev touched him when they were captured by Miasma. It hadn’t been sexual, just intimate. He’d gently wiped the blood off Juno’s face after a bad session with the cards, held him by the shoulders and grounded him when he’d panicked, and slept with one arm slung over him, his chest pressed against Juno’s back to keep them both warm.

Juno had assumed he’d only acted that way because of the situation they were in, and because of the…close nature of their relationship at the time, but maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe Nureyev is just a touch-y person, regardless of where he is and who he’s with.

He tries to ignore the fact that Nureyev’s eyes don’t linger on any of the other members of the crew, and that he doesn’t leave his hands on any of their shoulders for just a little longer than feels natural.

It doesn’t mean anything.

It can’t.

Juno likes to think he’s getting better at handling himself around Nureyev, too. His face no longer heats up every time the man so much as opens a door for him, and the most recent time he accidentally ran into Nureyev coming out of the communal showers he didn’t even have to turn the water temperature of his own shower all the way down to recover from the sight of him.

He knows he still has his limits, however, and finds himself facing one of them the next time he has to go undercover.

“Ah, darling, there you are.” Buddy stops him in the hallway several hours before the mission. “Have you seen Pete?”

Juno shakes his head. “Not since this morning.”

She sighs. “Very well. I might as well just tell you now, then, and you can pass it on to him later if you see him. I have your aliases for the heist tonight, so you can begin preparing for your roles. I know it’s short notice, of course, but considering how spontaneous this mission ended up being, there was only so much I could do.”

“Oh. Okay. Who are we, then?”

“Ransom will be Emmanuel Garnier, and you’ll be his bodyguard turned trophy girlfriend, Indila. Quite frankly, your main purpose on this mission will just be to hang on Ransom’s arm while also observing the guests at the event as best you can, so if you think you can manage-” She trails off, looking at him. “Juno? Is something wrong?”

“Huh? No,” he stammers. “It’s just… _girlfriend.”_

“I apologize, darling, if you’d prefer a different term-”

“No. Um, that’s not a problem, I just...Ransom and I have already done the whole fake relationship thing once, right? Isn’t it a risk to do it again? Like, shouldn’t we mix it up a little?”

“Do you not want to act as Ransom’s girlfriend, Juno?” Buddy says, cutting him off.

She always has been too good at seeing through his excuses and deflections. He rubs his neck, struggling desperately to think of one she won’t see through. “No, it’s…it’s not me. I just don’t think Ransom’s comfortable with it, is all. It didn’t seem like he liked it when we were the Dauphins.”

It isn’t…exactly a lie. Nureyev _had_ seemed unhappy when acting as Monsieur Dauphin, but Juno is well aware that there were extenuating circumstances then. It’s possible that Nureyev would be uncomfortable with these covers, but he can’t know that for sure. For all Juno knows, he’s perfectly fine with them. He is a professional, after all. He’s probably completely capable of pretending to date someone without any legitimate feelings for them or anyone else getting in the way.

Unlike Juno.

That’s the real problem here. Juno doesn’t trust that he can pretend to be Nureyev’s girlfriend without making his actual feelings obvious. More than that, he is certain it would _hurt,_ to be that close to him while knowing it can only ever be a fantasy.

It’s probably selfish, but he doesn’t feel like putting himself through that. Not tonight.

Buddy is looking at him like she can tell there’s more going on here than he’s letting on, but she finally says, “Very well. I wish that Pete had come to me with this concern himself, but in that case…Indila can simply be Emmanuel’s bodyguard, instead.”

Juno feels relief course through him. “Thanks.”

“Your outfits are all laid out in the changing room, as soon as you’re ready for them. Let me know if you have any other concerns.” Her eyes flick up as a door opens down the hall. “Ah, there’s our resident master thief at last.”

He watches her meet Nureyev when he emerges from his bedroom and pull him aside to pass on the information to him. He allows himself one lingering look at the man, then retreats to his own room to prep for the heist.

When Juno goes to put on Indila’s outfit, he finds Nureyev already in the changing room, having just finished lacing up Emmanuel’s corset.

He greets with Juno with a smile. “Just the two of us in the field again tonight. How delightful.”

“Y-yeah,” Juno says. “I’m…looking forward to it. We work well together.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Juno tries to focus on Indila’s dress so that he can avoid looking at Nureyev, but his eye can’t help being drawn to him. He’s currently dressed in skin tight silver pants, heeled boots, and a sheer white shirt underneath his intricately patterned corset. His makeup is as perfect as always, his lips lined in glossy black and eyelids adorned with glittering silver to match the pants.

“A picture would last longer.”

Juno’s face is immediately on fire at the remark. “S-sorry. You, uh, look good.”

Nureyev stretches, rolling his shoulders. “Thank you, dear. I confess that I am trying very hard to,” he says. Then he tilts his head. “You…are late.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Juno says sheepishly, quickly pulling Indila’s dress off the rack. “I was working on my character, is all.”

“Really?” Nureyev says, his tone incredulous.

“Really. I donno, you always spend so time making your personas seem like real people, like giving them a whole backstory even if they don’t actually need one-”

“It’s not a matter of _needing_ one _,_ Juno. Even if the backstory never comes up it’s still an important way of fleshing out the character and ensuring the mark believes-”

“Yeah! Yeah, I mean, I get that now. That’s why I decided to…workshop Indila a little,” Juno says. “Buddy only gave me a first name, so I decided his last name is Argent. He’s from a family of criminals for hire, but he’s always wanted to be more than that. His dream is actually to be a weatherman, but he knows he’ll never be able to- what?”

Nureyev puts a hand over his mouth, stifling the low chuckle that just escaped it. “Nothing, Juno. Please, continue.”

Juno shoves his hands in his pockets. “I know it’s stupid. I’m not as good at this as you are.”

“No, please. Keep telling me about Indila Argent. How did he and Emmanuel meet?”

A hesitant grin spreads across Juno’s face. He spent the better part of the last hour coming up with an idea for that particular scenario, certain that Nureyev was going to ask, and he’s pretty proud of it. “Get this. Ten years ago, Indila and Emmanuel were actually hired for the exact same job without knowing it. They were both lined up to take a shot on the same mark…and then they both took it at the exact same time.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Right?! Except one of the shots was a little too early and a little too wide, so the mark figured out what was going on and got away. To this day, they have no idea which one of them screwed it up! They each blame the other, so there’s a lot of tension, but they’re still good friends because they’re stuck in similar family situations. Hell, maybe Emmanuel wants to be a weatherman too, if you’re okay with that, because then- _Mmph.”_

Before he can get another word out, he’s being pulled into a kiss.

Without thinking, he leans into it, overwhelmed by the smell of Nureyev’s cologne and the taste of his lips. It’s just as desperate, just as passionate as the times they kissed in that hotel room or in Juno’s apartment, and just like then he wants it to go on forever-

But just like he did then, he realizes that it can’t.

He breaks away from Nureyev, stumbling backwards. “Nureyev…”

“I’m so sorry, my dear detective,” Nureyev says breathlessly. “Forgive me my moment of weakness, but I simply couldn’t resist. To have you by my side like this, and to see you so enthusiastic about a heist and an alias…well, it’s what I’ve been dreaming of since the day I insisted you play Dahlia Rose.”

“You…like Indila, then?”

“Juno, I adore him. More than that, I adore you.”

He leans forward again, and Juno…

Fuck, Juno _wants._ He wants more than anything, and he almost takes.

But then a memory floats to the front of his mind.

_He’s kissing an older man in the alley behind the bar, so distracted by the feeling of scruff against his cheek and hot breath on his neck that he must not notice as a wedding ring is slipped off a finger and tucked away._

_“My place or yours?” he asks._

_“Yours,” the man replies. Too quickly. Juno should notice that he says it too quickly, should notice how insistent he is on going to Juno’s apartment despite how small and messy it is. He’s a detective. He should notice these things._

_He doesn’t notice._

_He doesn’t notice any idiosyncrasies during the times that they’re together, probably because he doesn’t want to. Probably because the man seems kind, and doesn’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, like so many of his past partners have. Probably because Juno just wants to feel something, and the emotion that courses through him when he meets this man’s eyes is more than he’s felt in months._

_Weeks into their relationship, just when Juno is considering doing something ridiculous like suggest that they move in together, a woman shows up at his office with a case. Not just any woman, either- an old friend from Oldtown High, who he fell out of touch with after graduation but has fond memories of._

_“Juno,” she says breathlessly. “Everyone says you’re an amazing private investigator, so…can you help me?”_

_“Depends on what you need help with.”_

_“I need you to find out if my husband is cheating on me.”_

_It’s a simple enough request, and one he’s gotten a thousand times before. As he takes in her appearance, however- her bright, tear-filled eyes and the curve of her belly that belies the fact that there will be a new addition to her family soon- he feels a surge of sadness and rage on her behalf._

_She swipes at her eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I feel horrible even coming here. I don’t want to doubt him, but…he’s out late all the time, and he always comes home smelling like booze and sex, and I…I don’t know what else I’m supposed to think.”_

_“Give me his name, home address, work address, and the names of any bars you know he frequents. I’ll find answers for you.”_

_Before he knows it, he’s being hugged and she’s sobbing into his shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Juno.”_

_She gives him the information he needs. He doesn’t think much of the name. There are plenty of people named Richard on Mars._

_Then he visits their perfect little house in Halcyon, with its simulation hedge rows and white picket fence, and he sees the woman’s husband through the kitchen window, and in an instant the case is solved. She was right._

_Her husband is cheating on her._

_Juno wants to march right into the house then and there and start a fist fight. He wants to collapse to the pavement and sob. He wants to go to the nearest bar and drink himself into oblivion, to refund his old friend’s payment, delete her number and never call her back. He doesn’t, though._

_She has a right to know._

_He calls her back to the office and tells her, then sits stock still behind his desk as she screams at him. He doesn’t flinch or make any attempt to move out of the way when she slaps him across the face. A tiny part of him whispers:_ This isn’t your fault. You didn’t know. She should be mad at him, not you.

 _The rest of him thinks,_ It was obvious. You should have realized.

You deserve this.

You’ve ruined their marriage, their family, because you were too stupid to notice the signs. Some detective you are, Steel.

_He watches her leave, angry tears still streaming down her face and his cheek still smarting where she hit him. He ignores Rita’s inquiries about what happened. He ignores the string of beeps from his comms, as Richard discovers he’s been found out and sends a barrage of messages screaming at Juno for telling his wife, then begging him to take it all back, then saying, “She’s gone, she’s left me, it can just be you and I now, Juno, please-”_

_He blocks the number and makes a decision._

_This isn’t going to happen again._

_He isn’t going to hurt someone like that ever again. He isn’t going to ruin anyone else’s love._

“Stop it, Nureyev.”

He pushes the man away before he can kiss Juno again, fixing him with a hard expression.

“Juno, I…” Nureyev starts, but then backs up, clearing his throat. “Yes, you’re right. I got a bit…carried away. We have a heist to do, so…” His expression changes to a sly smile. “We can pick this up again after.”

“No. We’re not picking this up again,” Juno says, and it _hurts,_ but he knows he has to set this boundary now before Nureyev ruins a good thing for himself.

“But, Juno, I thought-”

He swallows. “It’s a bad idea, Nureyev. I know you don’t want this.”

“How can you possibly presume to know what I-”

“Fine, then! _I_ don’t want this,” Juno says, and he realizes he means it.

Of course he loves Nureyev. Of course he’d love to kiss him, and hold him, and…a thousand other things, but he doesn’t want to get between Nureyev and Kay. He doesn’t want to ruin another relationship.

Selfishly, perhaps, he also doesn’t want to be loved secondhand. He can’t ask Nureyev to leave Kay for him, and won’t- but he also won’t allow himself to be reduced to being someone’s mistress. He’d rather not be kissed by Nureyev at all than only be kissed by him in the dark, a dirty secret that has to be hidden away. Maybe he would have a year ago, but…he knows better, now. He knows he deserves better than that.

“Oh,” Nureyev says quietly. His expression is hard to read, especially behind Emmanuel’s tinted glasses. “I…I apologize. I must have…misinterpreted things. It won’t happen again.”

Juno nods. “It’s…for the best.”

“Mm. Of course.”

Nureyev leaves the room so Juno can get dressed, and Juno does so, feeling empty and miserable and with the pressure of Nureyev’s lips still lingering on him like the pain of a phantom limb. He re-evaluates what he said a thousand times on the way to the heist, trying to figure out if there was a better choice, something he could have said to make it all work out.

He could have asked Nureyev about Kay. About what they like. Maybe it’s an open relationship, or they’re polyamorous. Maybe he can still be a part of this without ruining it.

Even as he thinks it, though, he knows that wouldn’t work either. Nureyev and Kay might be okay with it, but he…he wouldn’t be. He’d get weird, and jealous, and they deserved better than that. Besides, if something like that was an option, wouldn’t Nureyev have brought it up by now? Wouldn’t he have mentioned Kay at all?

Another hope creeps into his head, then: Maybe Nureyev hasn’t mentioned Kay because their relationship isn’t as perfect as Juno is imagining. Maybe they’re miserable together, maybe Nureyev doesn’t love them anymore and kissing Juno is his way of deciding he and Kay are through-

But then Juno remembers the way Nureyev looked at him when he was delusional with sickness, as though the person he thought he was seeing had hung every star in the sky, and Juno knows that can’t be true.

Nureyev loves Kay.

He’s happy with Kay.

Today was just a fluke, and Juno was right to head it off quickly before things went any further.

The heist goes smoothly. Nureyev is, perhaps, a little colder when he speaks to Juno out of character afterwards, but only a little. Juno knows that with time he’ll understand that it’s for the best.

It’ll get easier soon, for both of them. He’s certain of it.

Juno can’t help crying when he learns that Vespa and Buddy are engaged. Something about seeing them together has always made him emotional- like their existence is proof of happy endings. Proof that two people who are in love really can end up together, no matter how many hardships and obstacles they’ve faced.

At the same time, though, it alights a strange feeling in his stomach. He was engaged once, too, and that…well, it didn’t work out. He knows this is different and that his own experiences have no bearing on Buddy and Vespa’s, but it does make him feel a little off.

He’s surprised when he glances in Nureyev’s direction and sees his own expression mirrored there. He has a faraway look in his eyes, like he’s also thinking about something more than just Buddy and Vespa. Juno knows it’s none of his business, but he can’t help but wonder what that might be.

He gets his answer only a few weeks later, when he’s getting dressed for a mission.

He’s going to act as a high-class debutante this time, despite assertations to Buddy that these covers are getting less and less believable.

“Nonsense, Juno,” she says. “I have every faith in your acting ability. Now, go bother Ransom for some jewelry; I couldn’t find enough in my own collection that suit Esmerelda, but I’m certain he has more than enough…”

Things are still a little awkward between them since the kiss, but at least Nureyev has started looking him in the eye again, which Juno is grateful for. When he knocks on Nureyev’s door, he’s even greeted with an easy smile.

“Ah, Juno,” Nureyev says. Juno tries not to miss the way his name used to sound from Nureyev’s lips, laced with all the reverence and affection in the galaxy. He tries not to resent the carefully casual way that Nureyev now says it, the same way as he might say any other name. “How may I help you?”

“Er, I need…jewelry?”

“For your cover. Of course, come in. I have plenty to spare.” Nureyev gestures in the direction of his vanity.

“…Yeah, I can tell.”

Nureyev’s vanity, like the rest of his room, is a cluttered mess, entirely coated in trinkets and bric-a-brac that he’s picked up over the months. There are three different jewelry boxes to the left of the mirror, stacked precariously on top of each other, as well as a cross-shaped stand upon which hangs at least twenty or thirty necklaces.

Juno awkwardly picks through them, trying to guess what someone like Esmerelda Dugne would wear. He’s getting better at crafting personas, sure, but he’s still not 100% on the ‘fashion’ side of things. He carefully unstacks the boxes and opens them, pointedly not looking at Nureyev, who is currently humming a tune and touching up his makeup in his hand mirror.

He finds a couple bracelets and necklaces in the first two boxes that might work, and pulls them out. The third box is entirely filled with rings. He moves to close it, knowing there’s no way any ring sized for Nureyev’s fingers wouldn’t get stuck on his, but then something catches his eye.

Near hidden at the very bottom of the box is a golden ring. Unlike the others, it isn’t laden with any ostentatious stones. It’s simple and delicate, made of two separate pieces of metal intertwined and sealed to form a braided appearance. It also looks incredibly familiar, and it takes Juno a moment to realize why.

_“What are you staring at, Steel?”_

_“Nothing! Just…the ring Buddy gave you.”_

_Vespa scoffs and turns away. “Not every engagement ring needs to have some fancy Earth diamond like they do on Solar planets. This is how they look in most parts of the Outer Rim. It represents how two different souls have become interconnected- ugh, why am I telling you this? Scram, Steel, I have shit to do.”_

_“That’s…nice,” Juno says, and means it. “That she thought to give you an Outer Rim engagement ring, too, I mean.”_

_“Yeah, well. That’s Buddy,” Vespa says. “She always picks the right thing.”_

_She shoos him out of the med bay then, but when he chances a glance back, he sees her look down at her hand and smile._

An Outer Rim engagement ring.

Juno turns it over in his hand, studying it. There’s something engraved on it, in such delicate script that it takes him a moment to realize that it’s a letter.

_K._

“Did you find what you needed, Juno?”

Juno nearly jumps out of his skin at Nureyev’s voice, and hurriedly replaces the ring in the box and closes it. The man is still distracted by his makeup; Juno’s discovery seemingly having gone unnoticed. “Uh…yeah. Thanks.”

“Any time,” Nureyev says breezily.

Juno gathers up the rest of the jewelry he picked out and moves to leave the room, but before he reaches the door Nureyev catches him by the arm.

“Juno? Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

What is Juno meant to say?

_It hurts that I still know nothing about your life. I thought we were friends, and wouldn’t a friend tell me that he was going to propose to his partner? Wouldn’t he mention that partner to me at all?_

No, that’s a lie. That’s not why it hurts.

_It hurts to know you’re going to marry someone else because I’m still in love with you._

He can’t say that. He won’t.

_Congratulations. I’m glad you’ve found somebody you want to spend your life with._

_I’m glad you’ve found somebody you’re certain won’t leave._

“Uh, I’m fine,” he says instead. “Just a…headache.”

“Ah. In that case, I wish you a speedy recovery.”

A pause hangs in the air, then, made up of a thousand things left unsaid between them. They both open their mouths, then close them again.

“See you,” Juno says, and leaves the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact #1: juno's flashback in this chapter is inspired by a canon exchange from prince of mars. juno says his worst client was a friend of his who asked him to prove her husband was cheating on her, that he did prove it, and that he doesn't wanna talk about what happened after he did. it's left intentionally ambiguous but the first time i heard it i assumed the implication was that juno was who the husband was cheating with, SOOO.....
> 
> fun fact #2: i had the idea of juno getting really into creating a role and nureyev being so delighted by this that he kisses him completely independent from this story, but then i couldn't think of enough plot surrounding that to turn it into a proper fluff fic in its own right, so i decided to include it here and make it sad instead bc i'm evil
> 
> ANYWAY!! next chapter will be the last one, and the one we've all been waiting for (aka the one where juno finds out what's actually going on...). should be up within a few days!!! thank you so much for reading and kudos/comments are so so SO appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhhhhh I started writing this, and then I kept writing it, and then it ended up being as long as both the previous chapters combined, so...oops. I considered splitting it in two, but I promised that the next chapter would be the last one and I didn't want you to have to suffer anymore in the "angst" part of "angst with a happy ending" haha. So here it is! The communication we've all been waiting for! Please enjoy this chonky final chapter.
> 
> CWs for a discussion of a pre-story death by illness and a brief instance of unintentional self harm.

Jeremiah King is a master violinist and lounge singer, and he’s currently center stage at the La Tentation Bar and Lounge, playing his heart out alongside the rest of the band.

He’s dressed in a ruby red gown with a thigh-high slit that glimmers every time he moves. A faux-feather boa the same color as his stilettos is draped around his shoulders, and his makeup is all floaty gradients and warm tones like an old Earth sunset.

It’d be easy enough to pass him off as being the same as all the others at the bar- he’s twice as beautiful, perhaps, but he has the same regal air as the rest of them, the same old-money elegance and charm. It would take an exceptionally keen observer to notice the roguish glint in his eyes and the hint of vulpine teeth under his painted lips.

Juno Steel has always been an exceptionally keen observer when it comes to looking at Peter Nureyev.

He knows he’s supposed to be focused on his mark as he dances with her, but he can’t stop glancing back at Nureyev, entranced by the way he looks on stage, lit from behind by a hundred sparkling lights, a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he pours his whole heart into the movements of his bow.

“He’s a very handsome man, isn’t he?” the mark says with a laugh.

“Oh, uh, sorry-”

“Don’t worry. You’re not the only one who’s had their eye on him,” she says. “He’s new, apparently. I’ve never seen him before today. Not a half bad player, isn’t he?”

Juno watches Nureyev’s fingers fly across the strings of that instrument he hates so much, and he can’t help but nod. Maybe he doesn’t always appreciate hearing Nureyev practice the thing next door in the dead of night, but right now…he doesn’t care how badly the sounds it makes grate his eardrums. He could watch Nureyev play forever, entranced by the amount of attention and dedication he puts into even something like this.

“Wonder if he’s taken,” the mark muses. “If he is, his partner sure is lucky to have him. You know, I might try to accidentally bump into him after the show…”

_His partner sure is lucky to have him._

Yeah, they are.

Juno hopes that Kay knows that, whoever and wherever they are. He hopes they understand just how grateful they should feel that they can be with this man. He hopes they never, ever take him for granted, or even think about lifting a finger to hurt him.

He hopes they cherish him.

The mark excuses herself to the hors d’oeuvres table a few minutes later, putting an end to their dance, but it doesn’t matter- he’s already gotten what he needed from her. He exits the dancefloor too and allows himself a moment of indulgence, leaning on the bar top and watching Nureyev as he plays.

Towards the end of the last number, Nureyev’s eyes open and scan across the crowd. They come to rest on Juno, meeting his gaze.

Those eyes are just as bright as they were back in that chamber below Mars, and in that moment Juno knows he is going to love this man until the day he dies.

That thought used to scare him. Then, after he found out about Kay, it made him sad. Now…it doesn’t bother him so much.

Even if Peter Nureyev can never love him back again, maybe it’s enough just to live in a world where he exists. To be allowed into his orbit, and be a satellite around him, even if only as a friend. He knows it’s still going to hurt some days, but that’s okay. Nureyev is here, and alive, and he found someone who makes him happy. Someone he’s probably going to marry.

That’s okay. That’s good. Juno’s going to support him, no matter what. It’s the least he can do, really, after walking out on him. It’s the least he can do to just be the best friend possible to Peter Nureyev.

After another few minutes, Nureyev’s piece comes to an end and there’s a smattering of applause around the venue.

This signals the next step in their plan: Juno and Nureyev are meant to meet backstage to confirm they both managed to steal the key cards they were after. Juno flashes his VIP guest badge at the bouncer and slips behind the curtain to find Nureyev there waiting for him, lounging against one of the makeup stations.

Juno holds up the card he slipped out of his mark’s purse while they were dancing. “Got mine. How about you?”

“But of course, detective.” Nureyev flashes his own card in return. “The cellist didn’t so much as blink when I took it from him midperformance.”

Juno can’t help but grin. “Show off,” he teases, then clears his throat. “You were…really amazing out there.”

Nureyev shoots him an expression he finds difficult to read. “I thought you didn’t like my… _depressing instrument,_ as Rita so kindly calls it.”

“Yeah, well…it has its moments. Especially when you’re playing it like that.”

“Like…?”

Juno shrugs. “Like you’re putting your whole heart into it, I guess.” He smiles at Nureyev. “I mean it. It was beautiful.”

Nureyev stares at him for a moment, opening his mouth like he’s going to say something. Then he closes it again, his whole body tensing so slightly that Juno is certain he’d never have noticed it if not for all those intimate nights spent sleeping side by side under Mars’ surface. When he speaks again, his voice is terse and clipped. “Well, our objective is completed, so it’d be in our best interest to take our leave now.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah.”

They don’t speak again for the entire ride back to the Carte Blanche. Nureyev is pointedly faced away from him, staring out the window of the Ruby 7. The tension between them is suddenly as taut as the strings on Nureyev’s bow, and Juno has no idea why.

He wants to let it go, let whatever problem Nureyev suddenly has with him drop, but he can’t. That wouldn’t be being a good friend, right? A good friend would ask. A good friend would figure out what’s wrong so he can fix it. Maybe he made Nureyev uncomfortable when he’d complimented him. He can reassure him that he meant it platonically, and that he isn’t going to…make anything weird.

It’s hard to do anything like that, however, when Nureyev immediately escapes to his room as soon as they get back to the ship. Juno only just manages to catch him before he slams the door shut.

“Ransom,” he hisses. “We need to talk.”

“Do we?” Nureyev replies coolly.

“Uh, apparently, since you’re acting like I kicked your puppy or something.” He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. He didn’t come here to start a fight. “Look, if I did something that upset you, can you please just…tell me? What can I do to make it better?”

Nureyev mutters something under his breath, but Juno can’t make it out.

“…What?”

“First of all, you can _stop looking at me like that.”_

Nureyev’s voice is so full of venom that Juno takes an involuntary step back, but when he looks at the man, he sees his eyes are shining with unshed tears. “N- Ransom, I don’t…”

“You’re doing it now, too,” Nureyev chokes out. “Stop it. Stop looking at me like you…like you love me.”

Juno’s eye widens. “…Ransom?”

Nureyev tries to retreat into his room, but Juno follows him in, closing the door behind them so they can have some amount of privacy. They’re locked in a stand off then, like lions circling each other, each clearly needing to say something but not wanting to be the first to speak.

_Stop looking at me like you love me._

Juno’s heart plunges as the words finally sink in. He thought he’d been doing a good job of hiding his feelings, but apparently he hadn’t managed to at all. He feels sick with guilt at the thought that he’s been making Nureyev feel awkward.

He sinks onto the bed and says, “I’m sorry. You…you deserve better than that.”

“Better than having my emotions played with?” Nureyev spits. “Yes, I think I do, Juno. First you promise to travel the stars with me and then walk out on me in the night. Now you tell me that us being together is a bad idea but you still…you still look at me like you want me. What am I supposed to do? How am I meant to feel right now?!”

“You don’t have to do anything!” Juno says. “I…I’m sorry. I’ll do better, and I didn’t…I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, Juno. I’m _confused._ Do you love me or not!?”

Juno’s breath catches in his throat. He could lie, of course. It’d probably be better to lie- better to spare Nureyev from having to know that he’s still being pathetically pined over by someone he’s long since moved on from. He doesn’t want to, though. He’s not even sure he can.

“I do,” he says quietly. “I do love you, Nureyev. I never stopped loving you.”

“Then what did I do wrong?”

“…What?”

Nureyev is pacing back and forth across the room now. He’s hunched in on himself, arms crossed and shoulders drawn up to his ears, hardly recognizable as the man who only an hour ago was stood proud and tall on stage. “You apologized and we talked and I thought you still loved me. Now you tell me that…that I was right to think that. So why don’t you want to be with me? What have I done wrong?”

It’s Juno’s turn to be completely confused, now. He stares at Nureyev, head spinning. “Nureyev, I…”

“Just _tell me!_ I’ve had enough of this! Enough of living in limbo, never knowing if you’ll ever want to be with me again! If you just told me you didn’t love me, I would accept that, but if you _do_ …then why?”

“You’re getting married!”

Juno is on his feet now, standing in front of Nureyev before the man can pace any further.

Nureyev stares at him like he’s just grown a second head. “…Juno?”

“I love you, Nureyev. I do. But I’m not gonna be your…goddamn mistress. Whoever Kay is, it seems like they make you happy. Probably happier than I could ever make you. Don’t throw that away for me.”

“How do you know that name?”

“Yes, I know about Kay, all right? So stop acting like I’m the only one-”

 _“How do you know that name?”_ Nureyev’s voice is hard now, his expression deadly.

“I…you…you called me by it,” Juno says, taken aback. “When you were sick. You kissed me, and called me Kay. I saw you talking to them. I know they know your real-”

_“Fuck.”_

The word sounds wrong on Nureyev’s tongue, and Juno realizes that he’s never heard him say it before. Not once. The exhaustion and resignation that overtakes the thief then is also unfamiliar. His shoulders sag and his expression darkens as he collapses onto the bed, putting his head in his hands. Juno doesn’t think he’s ever seen Peter Nureyev look so thoroughly broken, not even after hours of torture.

“It’s okay,” Juno says quickly. “I’m not angry. You…you’re allowed to love somebody else, Nureyev. But you have to choose. I don’t want to be anyone’s second, and I’m sure Kay doesn’t either, so-”

“Juno, Kay died almost twenty years ago.”

Juno’s heart skips a beat in his chest. He stares at Nureyev, frozen. “But…that’s…”

“I…I wanted to tell you. I was going to tell you, but…I couldn’t…I didn’t…” Nureyev gestures helplessly. “The words kept getting stuck in my throat, I suppose. A part of me thought you might already know, really. That it might be another thing you saw in my mind.”

“I don’t…If Kay is dead, then…who are they? What’s been…going on, with you?”

Nureyev takes a shuddering breath, as though this is the last thing he wants to be talking about right now. Juno could take back his questions, reassure him that he doesn’t have to talk, but…he wants to know. Selfishly, he needs to know.

There’s a long, tense silence, and then Nureyev says, “You were right about one thing. I was going to marry them. I was nineteen and…foolish, but if I was certain of anything, it was that I was in love. I’d been in love with them for years. Ever since we were children, squatting in the same abandoned houses together, fighting over the same stolen scraps…”

“They were from Brahma,” Juno supplies quietly.

“They were from Brahma,” he confirms, a wry smile crossing his face. “And it was Brahma that killed them.”

“I…thought you left. After what happened.”

“I left. Then I came back. For them. I couldn’t leave them behind there, not even after everything. I asked them to come with me, but they…they couldn’t. They were too ill.” He fidgets with the ornate rings on his fingers that he’d worn to be Jeremiah King. His performance at the lounge already feels like a lifetime ago. “So I stayed.”

“Ill from…what?”

“Radiation sickness,” Nureyev says bitterly. “Everyone who grew up on the surface of Brahma is stuck with it, to some extent. The radiation from the Guardian Angel System’s lasers has built up in the air, but they…they were there when another of our friends was killed, when we were children. The laser that killed her grazed them too, and it…worsened the effects.”

“That’s…” Juno can’t find the words to express how awful it is, so instead he trails off and tentatively reaches out a hand. He half expects Nureyev to ignore it or slap it away, but instead the man takes it, squeezing it like it’s a life line.

“They fought. They…they did what they could. I did what I could. We were together for a year. We were meant to be married during Brahman winter. No ceremony, no witnesses, just us. A wanted terrorist and a burglar turned hairdresser.”

Suddenly, Nureyev lets go of his hand and gets to his feet, strolling across the messy floor to his vanity. He unearths a jewelry box from beneath a pile of clothes, opens it, and pulls out a golden ring- the same one Juno had picked out weeks ago.

“I put away money to get them a proper engagement ring, one that could double as a wedding ring, but they died two weeks before the wedding.” Nureyev’s voice is so quiet that Juno can barely hear him over the hum of the engines, and he struggles to catch every word. “They only got to wear it once. Sentimental, I know, but…it’s the only item I’ve carried with me from that place.”

His voice wavers, and then suddenly there are tears streaming down his face, and Juno doesn’t know what to do, because he’s never seen Nureyev cry before and the sight of it makes his heart _hurt-_

“We were just teenagers,” Nureyev chokes out. “It wouldn’t have even lasted, probably. But we were happy, and I loved them, and they…they deserved to live. I wanted them to live.” He swipes at his tears, but only succeeds in smearing his makeup across his face. “F-fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I…I just…I’ve never talked about them out loud before.”

Before he can stop himself, Juno is on his feet and walking to Nureyev’s side. “Can I…?”

“Please.”

Juno wraps his arms around him and hugs him lightly. Nureyev leans into the embrace, pressing his face into Juno’s shoulder.

“I’m okay,” he whimpers. “I’m…it was twenty years ago.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be over it.”

“I should be. I need to be.”

“My brother died twenty years ago,” Juno says softly. “You don’t blame me for not being over that, right?”

“N-no, of course not-”

“Then you shouldn’t be upset with yourself, either. Fuck, Nureyev, of course you’re not over it if you’ve never even talked about it.”

“Hurts less if I don’t.”

“Seems like it’s hurting you plenty either way.”

“In more ways than you know,” Nureyev mumbles into Juno’s neck.

They stay like that for a long time, just breathing, until Nureyev’s sobs finally subside. It feels so…wrong, somehow, like this is something Juno shouldn’t be privy to. Like he hasn’t earned this vulnerability from Nureyev, or this closeness. Not after the way he rejected him.

_Fuck._

He rejected him.

He’d thought it was for Nureyev’s own good, that he was happy with somebody else, but if he wasn’t…that just meant that Juno had turned him away for no reason. All because of some stupid misunderstanding that could’ve been fixed with one conversation.

Nureyev’s mind seems to have taken a similar turn. “You…you thought I was still with Kay. That they were still alive,” he says, voice still thick.

Juno averts his eyes. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. I should have just asked you about them, and then-”

“That’s why you didn’t want to be with me? That’s the only reason?” Nureyev’s looking at him now, his expression wide-eyed and hopeful, like a man lost in the desert who’s just found water but isn’t certain that it’s not a mirage yet.

“Yeah,” Juno admits. “I…didn’t want to help you cheat on them. Stupid in retrospect, obviously, but-”

“Then…can I kiss you?”

“Oh. Um, yes. Please.”

Just like that Nureyev’s lips are on his again, and for the first time in maybe ever, Juno is able to kiss him back without feeling any shame. It still takes him a moment, though, to process that he’s allowed to have this- to convince himself that he can kiss Peter Nureyev without hurting him or anyone else.

They fall back onto the covers together, lips still locked. It’s hungry, and tender, and filled with months of emotions left unsaid. Months of bitten tongues and stifled desires, of stolen stares and fists clenched under tables to keep from reaching out.

Juno can’t believe he could’ve been doing this for almost a year if he hadn’t been such an idiot. The guilt nearly overwhelms him, overriding even the ecstasy of finally being able to touch Nureyev like this, but he forces it down. He can unpack that later. Right now, he just wants to savor what he has.

They keep kissing for a long time, desperate with longing, but don’t go any further. After the emotionally charged conversation they just had, Juno can tell neither of them are up for that right now. They just want to be close.

Eventually they break apart and sink into the pillows, having kicked off their shoes and over-garments somewhere along the way. Nureyev settles onto Juno’s chest, his expression difficult to read. Juno can see relief and affection there, but also a tinge of sadness around the edges.

A memory floats to the surface of Juno’s mind.

“Nureyev…”

“Mm.”

“I have a question, but…you don’t have to answer it right now if you don’t want to.”

Nureyev nods. “Go on.”

“If…Well, obviously you weren’t calling Kay those times when you disappeared to answer your comms, but…” Juno grimaces. “I’m sorry, but I overheard you use your name with them. Your real name.”

Nureyev stiffens in his arms, but says, “And?”

“Who was it, then?”

There’s a pause, and then all of the tension leaves Nureyev, but he doesn’t look any happier. He slumps against the covers like an injured soldier who’s lost the will to keep fighting, his eyes dull. “Yes. I suppose you have a right to know that.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No. No, I do. But before I tell you, can I kiss you again?”

“…Of course, Nureyev, but…why?”

Nureyev chews his lip. “Because I…I’m afraid it might be my last opportunity to do so. Which is selfish, I’m well aware, but after I-”

Juno silences him with a kiss, then pulls back and says, “That won’t be the last time, all right? I…care about you, Nureyev. That’s not going to change, no matter what you have to say.”

“You can’t know that for sure until I tell you everything. You deserve to know what you’re getting into. Or, if you end up not wanting to get into it, then…you deserve an out.”

“Out from…what?”

“This. Me.”

“Nureyev, I’m telling you, I would never-”

“Don’t. Please don’t, don’t make any promises you can’t keep. Not until I finish talking,” Nureyev says.

Juno breathes in, heart pounding in his ears. His heart has already been through so much today; what’s one more go on the emotional rollercoaster? “All right. Then…go ahead. Talk to me, Nureyev.”

It takes him a moment before Nureyev is able to start, however. Just when Juno thinks he might have decided against telling him after all, he speaks, in a voice smaller and more fragile than Juno even knew Peter Nureyev was capable of producing. “Remember when I said…that Kay and I did our best to fight?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Kay fought with their strength and will, and I…I fought with money. Tried to fight with money, even though I didn’t have any.” Now that he’s begun, the words spill out of him, and Juno is careful not to interrupt, unsure that he’ll ever manage to talk about this again if anything throws him off his rhythm. “I didn’t…it wasn’t my intention to become a thief, you know. When I first left Brahma. I wanted to put everything that man taught me behind me. Forge my papers, sure, but then maybe just…get a job. Something that would let me travel a lot.”

Juno can’t picture Nureyev as anything other than a thief. He especially can’t picture Nureyev not even _wanting_ to be one. But…

If he’s learned anything tonight, it’s that there are a lot of things he didn’t know about Peter Nureyev.

“What little money I’d saved wasn’t enough to pay for their medical treatment, though,” Nureyev continues. “The companies kept hiking the prices higher and higher. The few treatments I could find that had even a chance of actually helping would always have price tags in the millions, so…I started stealing. Anything and everything I could get my hands on.”

He lets out a mirthless laugh. “It seems silly, now, but at the time…I really was ashamed of it. Kay had moved on from that life, and I…I didn’t want to be like…that man. I didn’t. I felt him in every necklace I stole. Every bank I robbed. I still do. His rules of thieving never left my head.”

Juno wants to say something, to reassure him that he could never be like Mag, but he’s still determined not to break whatever fragile magic is currently allowing Nureyev to speak openly about this.

“I robbed the pharmacies themselves, too. Eventually, I…chose the wrong one to steal from. Made one mistake. Got caught.” Nureyev draws a shaky breath. “They took me to the boss of the company to make an example of me. I told him the partial truth, hoping the sob story might me get off with jail time instead of a laser to the head. He…he took pity on me. Offered me a deal. A really good deal, I thought.”

He takes another moment to collect himself, and Juno squeezes his hand. Watching him talk about this is like watching someone pull out their own teeth, but he knows it’s necessary. For both of them.

“He said he’d give me the company’s top of the line medication. All their best treatment. I just…had to sign onto a payment plan,” Nureyev continues. “It was a lot of money. I knew that, even then. But he said…I had my whole life to pay it off. As long as I wanted, so long as I made periodic payments. All I had to do was give them a sample of my DNA, as…well, as a tag. A way to ensure I couldn’t just run off without paying. I didn’t want to do it, but at the time it felt like a small price to pay for a chance at saving Kay.”

Juno can’t help sucking in a pained breath, but thankfully Nureyev doesn’t even seem to hear it, and keeps going.

"It was an idiotic mistake. I knew their sickness was incurable. We both did. They...they told me not to, but I just lied to them and took the deal anyway. Stupid, so _fucking stupid-”_

Juno notices for the first time that Nureyev is clutching his own thigh with his free hand, digging his acrylic nails into his skin.

 _“Hey._ Hey, Nureyev, stop it.”

To his relief, Nureyev allows him to guide his hand away from his leg without complaint, and the marks left behind look angry but not serious. Juno is about to end the conversation right there, to insist on getting something for Nureyev’s leg and talking about this another time, but before he can open his mouth Nureyev is talking again.

“You can guess how the story goes,” he says. “I got the treatment. I gave it to Kay. It didn’t work. They died. I only…I only ended up using a fifth of the medication that the company gave me. I went back to them to offer to return the rest, in exchange for a decrease in my debts. They refused.

“The payments they were asking for…it was too much. Thousands and thousands of creds, every month, for nothing. For the _ghost_ of someone I loved. There was nothing left on Brahma for me anymore, so I tried to run. I don’t know why I thought I could. They had my DNA, after all. I suppose I foolishly assumed that as long as I didn’t leave a hair or a fingerprint anywhere, they couldn’t find me. In the end…that wasn’t the problem.”

Juno has the feeling that he knows where this is going, and he doesn’t like it. Not at all.

Nureyev’s expression is stony as he continues. “As soon as they realized I was gone, they cross-referenced my DNA to criminal records, and…found my name. Found my past. I got a call telling me that if I didn’t keep making payments, they’d hand me over to the Brahman government for my bounty. And that…that the cost of my bounty was added to my debt, as punishment for trying to run, and…to show my gratitude for their good will, in choosing not to turn me in.”

Juno feels sick to his stomach. He’d been relieved, when he first realized that Nureyev wasn’t actually in love with someone else, but now…

He wishes that Nureyev _had_ been speaking to someone he loved, all those times that he’d ducked away to make calls on his comms. It would hurt, of course, but it’d be better than _this._ Better than the knowledge that Nureyev has lived so much of his life in the shackles of a pharmaceutical company intent on bleeding him for every last cent he has.

“Your bounty…” he says. “It must be…high.”

“Half a billion creds,” Nureyev says wearily.

_Half a billion creds._

Juno can’t even imagine that much money, can’t even picture in his mind how many school lunches a sum like that could buy, and for how many children. It’s so high, it feels abstract. Untouchable.

“Fuck,” is all he manages to say.

“It went all right, for a while. For seventeen years, in fact. I became a better and better thief, and learned how to take pride in my thieving. To use what he taught me without…without feeling like…” Nureyev trails off, shaking his head. “The point is, I _was_ able to make my payments. More and more easily as time went on, even. I was set to be done paying everything off by age forty. But then, two years ago…”

“Miasma,” Juno says quietly.

Nureyev nods. “I need you to know, Juno, that I never would have worked for an employer as unvetted as Miasma if there hadn’t been serious money involved- and there was. It was quite the handsome sum that she offered me. I struck a deal to hold off on my payments while I worked for her, then pay a lump sum plus interest once I finished the job. Of course, things didn’t exactly…go as planned.”

“…No, I guess they didn’t.”

“Two weeks spent underground being…tortured, and then another week in the hospital as we both recovered…” Nureyev closes his eyes, grimacing as though just remembering it is bringing some of the pain back. It probably does. Juno knows it does for him. “I used up the last of my savings on your medical expenses. When the day came for me to send in my payment…I had nothing at all. Other than the Ruby 7, of course, but I couldn’t bring myself to sell it. Too selfish, I suppose, and too certain I’d need it in the future. Even if I had sold it, it wouldn’t have been enough anyway.”

Juno’s breath is stuck in his throat. Nureyev spent the last of his money on Juno’s hospital stay. He’d…never even thought about that. He’d assumed Nureyev had just worked his magic to get them a free stay, or wired money from some CEO’s secret second account…

He was Peter Nureyev, after all. He was capable of anything, or so Juno had thought.

“They…didn’t take it well when I told them I couldn’t make the payment,” Nureyev continues. “Told me I needed to get them double the money, and quickly, or they’d turn me over. Orders on Brahma are for me to be tortured for information and then publicly executed, if I’m ever found. I could get them the money, or I could die. Those were my only two options.”

“Nureyev…that’s…”

“Let me finish.”

“Right. Yeah. Of course.”

“I…did everything I could. Called in every favor. Re-used old aliases. Hit targets I’d always deemed too dangerous to be worth it. None…none of it was enough. Not even close.” There’s a tremor in his shoulders now, and Juno desperately wants to hold him until it goes away. “So when Captain Aurinko approached me about joining her team…”

“You accepted.”

“I’ve always admired the captain, and Vespa and Jet as well. I know what talented criminals they are, and I thought…I could take advantage of that talent. Do what I always do. Ingratiate myself, and then at the last moment, run away with their spoils. I…I didn’t want to, but I was certain that I had to.” He chuckles weakly. “So you see, Juno, despite your kindness in jumping to my defense when Vespa has expressed distrust in me…she was right all along.”

“You joined the crew so that you could turn on them,” Juno says slowly. He thinks he’s supposed to be angry, but he can’t bring himself to be.

Nureyev’s expression turns pleading. “Juno, if nothing else, I…need you to know that I never had any intention of preventing the crew from getting the Cure Mother and using it to do good. Quite the opposite, really. I only joined this group because I needed money, yes, but once I learned the ultimate goal…I never considered standing in the way of that, not for a second. If there really is an object in existence that can cure people like Kay…of course I want it out of those corporations’ hands. I’d certainly never give it to the one whose collar is around my own neck.”

“I believe you,” Juno says, because he does. But… “If you aren’t going to steal the Cure Mother, though…how are you going to make your payment?”

“My…intention was to give them the objects we’ve been gathering. The blade, the map, the book, and the key. Only after we’ve successfully used them to obtain the Cure Mother, of course.”

“But…they’ll be useless, then. Wouldn’t the corporation be pissed when they realized there’s nothing left to use the items for?”

“Perhaps,” Nureyev says. “Perhaps they’d kill me. But I’d be long gone by then, back on the run. Far enough away that they couldn’t hurt you. At least, that was the plan. As for if I don’t give them the items…well, I suppose they’ll kill me more quickly, and likely kill all of you as well.”

“That’s…” _Quite the fucking rock and hard place,_ Juno thinks. He doesn’t say it.

“So,” Nureyev says. His voice is tired. Resigned. “That’s it. That’s…the story of how I ruined everything. How I put my own life at risk, and now all of yours. If you want to go to the captain and tell her, I…I would understand, Juno. I would not begrudge you that. Nor will I begrudge you if you…find what I have just told you unforgivable, and no longer want anything to do with me.”

Juno meets Nureyev’s black eyes, and all at once he sees it behind them- the decades spent with an enemy on his heels that he can never hope to outrun. The years lost to constantly clawing after the next pay out, stealing not for the thrill but for necessity. He can’t believe he never noticed it before. He can’t believe he ever used to think that Nureyev had it easy, ever envied him his freedom or his profession.

He was _nineteen_ when he’d struck the deal with the pharmaceutical company. 

Just a kid. Just a teenager.

A teenager who'd already had a target painted on his back for saving an entire city, then had a collar of debt put around his neck. For...what? For loving too much? 

To be punished your entire life for actions taken as a teenager, actions taken out of _love_...it feels too cruel. Impossibly cruel. Juno wonders what it must do to a person, to be punished for that. To have every attempt at moral action thrown back in your face. To be told over and over again by the universe that doing the good, kind thing will only hurt you and put your life in danger.

He wonders how much heart it must take to suffer that, and then still make the choice to turn on Miasma.

Still make the choice to risk everything out of love for a surly private eye.

And yet…

And yet Nureyev is sitting in front of him wearing the expression of a man on death row. He’s looking at Juno as though he’s just admitted some wretched, unforgiveable crime; as though what he’s said could ever make him Juno hate him instead of love him all the more.

“I’m not mad at you, Nureyev,” he says finally. “And if I don’t forgive you, it’s only because there’s nothing to forgive.”

“Juno, don’t be ridiculous-”

“You act like you’re such a monster, but you know who the real monster is? The guy who’s fucking _threatening your life_ if you don’t give him every single penny you manage to scrape together. You want me to…what? Hate you for trying to survive? I can’t do that, Nureyev. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I won’t.”

Nureyev’s expression has changed to one of awe, as though his life has just been spared by a powerful goddess who he was certain was about to smite him down. He opens and closes his mouth several times, but all he ends up saying is, “Oh.”

“You know you could have told us about this, right?” Juno says. “The crew. Buddy would definitely be willing to help you. Hell, corrupt pharmaceutical corporations are exactly what we’re fighting against right now. If you’d just said something, we could’ve figured out a plan to get you safe way sooner.”

Nureyev looks away again, fidgeting with the sleeve of his dress. "Quite frankly, Juno, I've been operating under the assumption that nobody on this ship…likes me very much."

Juno hadn’t thought it was even possible for his heart to hurt any more today, but somehow it does. “Nureyev…”

"It made it easier, I suppose, knowing my presence was merely...tolerated. I wouldn't have to break anyone's trust if I never had it to begin with. At least, that's what I told myself. But if I'm honest with myself, something I must admit is a rare occurrence...." Nureyev lets out a mirthless chuckle. "Juno, I have been rather miserable."

Juno wants to say something, do _something_ to comfort the man in front of him, but he knows he isn’t finished talking yet, so he just stays quiet and runs a thumb over his knuckles.

“I never came here with the intention to be part of a family. I knew…I knew I wasn’t capable of that. I just…thought it could be nice, to pretend for a while. To at least make things up with you, but you…” He cringes. “I told myself it was good that you didn't want to be with me, that you were safer that way, but I...Juno, we’ve been together on this ship for almost a year, and I’ve missed you every second. Even when we were in the same room. God, I’ve missed you so much.”

“So have I,” Juno whispers. “And…I really am sorry. We could have had so many more months together, if I hadn’t jumped to conclusions like I did. _Fuck._ Some detective I am.”

“I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt, thinking I’d done something wrong again. Thinking I could never be with you. It hurt a lot.”

“I’m so sorry,” Juno says again. He doesn’t know how he can ever stop being sorry, for everything. “I think there was just some part of me that almost…found it easier to believe you had some secret fiancé than to accept the possibility that you might actually be able to love and forgive me.”

This time it’s Nureyev’s face that crumples into a pained expression. “Oh, Juno.”

“I’m-”

“No. No more apologizing. What happened was unfortunate, but…it happened, and now it’s over. We may have lost those months, but we still have the future ahead…of us…” Nureyev trails off. “Or we would have, if I hadn’t screwed everything up for myself.”

Juno shakes his head. “We’re gonna get you out of this. You understand me? We will. I don’t know how, but we will. We’ll go to Buddy and tell her everything, and then we can start working on a plan. Or…hell, if she doesn’t want to help, it can just be you and me. Rita, too, probably. We’ll figure something out.”

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking anything. I’m offering, because…because fuck, Nureyev. I love you. I love you and I don’t want you to die because twenty years ago, you tried to save the person you loved. I don’t want you to have to live in fear your entire goddamn life because you tried to do the right thing when you were a teenager. It’s not fucking fair. You’re a good person, Nureyev. You don’t deserve this.”

“I tell you I had every intention of betraying this family, and you claim I’m a good person?”

“Yeah, I do. You got a problem with that?”

Nureyev stares at him. His makeup is smeared all over his face, his once perfectly ironed dress now a rumpled mess. One of his earrings must have gotten lost in the bedsheets somewhere. He looks confused and exhausted and Juno is certain there’s never been a more beautiful person in the entire galaxy. “I…”

“Call it my way of making up for the months of misunderstanding, all right?” Juno says. “Nureyev, you spent the last of your money paying for me to get better and then I walked out on you in the middle of the night. This is the least I can do.”

“It’s different,” Nureyev says, shaking his head. “This is dangerous, Juno. I don’t care if they hurt me, but if something happens to you or the crew…”

“It won’t. We’re master criminals, right? If there’s one thing we know how to do, it’s stop corporations like this one. We can do this, Nureyev. You’re…you’re part of this family, whether you feel like it or not. We’re gonna help you. We’re gonna keep you safe.”

A distant, wry expression crosses Nureyev’s face. “I told Kay the same thing, and look how that turned out.”

“Yeah, well…” Juno takes a deep breath. “There are some things you can’t fix. I acknowledge that, I just don’t believe this is one of them. And even if it is…I’m not gonna let you go through this alone. Not anymore.”

Nureyev is quiet for a long time, still trembling almost imperceptibly, his shoulders hiked halfway to his ears. Then, all of a sudden, they drop. “I…I love you, Juno. I love you so much.”

_I love you, Juno._

Juno hadn’t realized just how long he’d been waiting to hear those words- the whole year, probably. Ever since he heard Nureyev say them to Kay instead of him. His heart feels like it’s on the verge of breaking out of his chest.

“I love you too, Nureyev,” he says. “I wish I’d told you that a year ago.”

Nureyev kisses him, lightly, and Juno can taste salt on his lips. Nureyev pulls back and scrubs at his face.

“Oh, good lord,” he says. “I’m a mess.”

Juno chuckles. “Maybe a little.”

“I promise that I’ll tell the captain all of this, but…”

“Tomorrow, yeah. That can wait until tomorrow morning.” A smirk dances across Juno’s lips. “Life can wait one night, right?”

“Oh, shush,” Nureyev says thickly. Then, “Will you…stay with me? I’m not asking for anything more, I just…must confess the thought of sleeping alone tonight after talking about all this suddenly rather terrifies me. Of course it’s perfectly all right if you don’t want to-”

Juno silences him with another kiss. “I’m gonna go get my pajamas from my room, and then I’ll come right back here, all right? I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

Nureyev looks like he’s just been offered a condo in the Arcturus Nebula instead of something as simple as company from Juno Steel for the night, and for a moment Juno imagines another, better world- one where he hadn’t rejected Nureyev’s kiss all those months ago. One where them sleeping beside each other is as natural and expected as breathing.

He pushes the thought aside as he hurries to his room. What happened happened, and there’s no changing it. At least they can be together now.

By the time he returns, Nureyev has changed into a silk robe and is now undergoing the process of gently removing all of his makeup in front of his vanity. Juno leans down to kiss him on the top of his head before collapsing onto the bed.

When he rolls over, he notices Kay’s engagement ring where it was left on the bedside table. He carefully picks it up and turns it over, admiring how the gold shines in the lamp light.

“Why do you hide this away?” Juno asks.

“Hm?”

“The ring. It was just at the bottom of one of like a million jewelry boxes. I mean, you can do whatever you want, obviously-”

Nureyev sighs. “I was wary of losing it if I wore it, I suppose. And…a reminder of them didn’t seem particularly necessary, if I’m honest. It’s not as though I’ll ever be able to forget my debt.”

“Yeah, but that’s a reminder of the bad stuff. Not the good. Not when you were happy together, or what you loved about them,” Juno says.

“And do you carry around a reminder of your brother everywhere, Juno?” Nureyev says roughly, then immediately blanches. “I apologize, that was out of line-”

“Yeah, I do,” Juno says lightly, cutting him off. “It’s called my face. We were identical.”

“Ah.”

“Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything. I just…I donno. It’s a nice ring. You could get a chain for it. Wear it, sometimes.”

“That wouldn’t…bother you?”

Juno laughs. “What, you’re worried I’d be jealous?”

“Well, I don’t know, it _is_ a memento of my engagement to someone else-”

“I’m glad, Nureyev. I’m glad you had someone you loved and who loved you, back then. You deserved that. I’m so sorry they died and for everything that came after that, but you’re still happy you met them, right?”

Nureyev’s eyes are shining with tears as he takes out his remaining earring and sets it on the vanity. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Then I’m happy, too. And if you ever want to tell me more about them, and about the good times you had together…please do.”

The tears slip from Nureyev’s eyes, making lines down his now bare face. “I do want to. They…they didn’t have any family. Neither of us did. I’m probably the only person…the only one left that even remembers them. I don’t want to be. I want someone else to know who they were.”

“Then tell me. Tell me everything. I want to know more about them, and about you, and your life. All of it.”

Nureyev nods, lip trembling. “Will you…tell me about you, too? About your brother, and…who you were before you met me. What you were doing, in the year that we were apart. This past year, too. I’d like to know, if you’re comfortable with that.”

“Of course,” Juno says, then chuckles. “Sounds like we’ve got a hell of a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Good thing we’ll have all the time in the world, once we kick the ass of that pharmacorp bastard.”

“Your confidence is unwarranted, you know-”

“Hey, you don’t-”

“-so why is it that, after twenty years of never being able to find a way out of this, for some reason, I…I almost believe you?”

A smile slowly spreads over Juno’s face. “Probably the same reason I was almost able to believe you, when we were trapped in that hellhole under the surface of Mars and you said we were going to survive. Even though it seemed impossible. Even though all the odds were against us,” he says. “Because I _trusted_ you, Nureyev. And…”

“And?”

“Well, we did survive, didn’t we?”

Nureyev is smiling now too, and Juno knows he’ll do anything at all if it means he gets to see that smile more often. He’ll burn down a hundred thousand pharmaceutical corporations, for that smile.

“Yes,” Nureyev says. “We did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....that's that!! I'm not gonna write it bc I suck at writing action/heist type stuff, but please know they absolutely do kick the pharma boss' ass. Obviously.
> 
> Really hope you enjoyed! I'm pretty proud of this one in the end, especially given the whole "being plagued by health issues halfway through that made writing really difficult" thing. I also teared up twice while writing it, both during pieces of dialogue said by Nureyev, so...props to anyone who can guess which ones :"D
> 
> You can follow me on tumblr @prydon and on twitter @prydonn, and if you leave a kudos and/or comment I will love and appreciate you forever!!


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